


Easier the Second Time Around

by Sarah1281



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: Years after Newt broke free from the precursors, he and Hermann have developed a way to send future minds back to past bodies. They have to go back. There's so much damage they can prevent. They can save Mako. But Newt won't risk being surrounded by kaiju specimens again. By brains. So Hermann finds himself sitting across from an impossibly young Newt for the first time, hoping to change history.





	Easier the Second Time Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [feriowind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feriowind/gifts).
  * Translation into Italiano available: [Easier the Second Time Around -By Sarah1281](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19203673) by [MayBane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayBane/pseuds/MayBane)



Hermann couldn’t say that he had never had more misgivings about something but it was definitely among the top five situations he had found himself in where he really didn’t know if this was a good idea. 

It was no surprise, of course, that every single one of these scenarios had involved Newton in some way. 

On the one hand, this was undeniably cool. And, thanks to long years of association with Newton, he was now a man who used the word cool. But it truly was. He and Newton had invented time travel. Well, they couldn’t figure out how to send something physical back but they had been able to send energy back. They had successfully sent the minds of a series of increasingly complex animals back in time. And the longest time they had sent one back was six months but that was simply a matter of them not having planned a test out for longer than six months in advance. If they had failed at sending a dog mentally back seven months they never would have attempted this. 

But it was never going to be enough. If they managed to wait twenty years and send something back in time that long (something like a parrot or a turtle, something long-lived) then he would need to go back forty. It was rather uncomfortably like Bill and Ted, he had found. He was now a man who not only had seen those movies but actively compared them to things. Newton’s fault, again. But the comparison was apt. They couldn’t just have an animal whose mind was from the future without setting it up later and sending it back. And they had never had something from that far into the future sent back to them so they likely never did it that way. 

And now he was here, waiting in a café seated near the door and waiting for Newton to arrive. He hadn’t been this nervous in years. Objectively this was not a dangerous encounter and it couldn’t possibly go worse than it once had but somehow it felt as though the stakes had never been higher. 

Technically he knew there was no point in spending all that time and money creating a way to send a mind into the past if one was not going to use it. Technically he knew that it was reckless and irresponsible to just create such a huge advantage and leave it there for some unscrupulous desperate or power-hungry leader to one day take advantage of. Technically he knew what they were working for, even if neither of them had ever said it. 

But it had still hurt when Newton had looked at him like that, like he didn’t know if Hermann was about to disappear or if he was.

“I don’t see why either of us has to do it,” he had insisted. 

Newton had smiled sadly and placed a hand on his face. “Yes, you do. We’ve talked about it.” 

“I know the damage that was done, all the lives lost…I used to torture myself with all the numbers when I wasn’t good enough to stop it,” Hermann had told him. “But we won. We did it. It was impossible and yet we did. Now they like to talk about it like it was an inevitability but we were days away from being completely shut down and it took a miracle – it took you being the bravest most selfless idiot I’ve ever known – to get what we needed. What if-”

“What if nothing,” Newton had interrupted. “It won’t be necessary this time. You’ll know and they won’t know you will. You won’t have to go anywhere near that thing. You won’t have to let me go anywhere near it.” 

Newton had been fighting dirty and he knew it. 

Hermann had still tried to argue. “Still-”

“Mako didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to die at my hand and there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thinking of her in some way,” Newton had cut in again. 

Well what was there to say to that? He had loved that girl like his own niece and watched her grow up and he had failed her so badly by failing to see the truth before it was too late. She had trusted him and he had spoken at her funeral. The precursors in Newton had sent their apologies, citing deadlines. He should have known then. The real Newton would have informed Shao he was going and then gone and dealt with whatever consequence there was when he came back. He wouldn’t have regretted if it cost him his job because how could he ever work for fascists like that? The real Newton never would have been able to work for Shao in the first place. He’d protested dozens of companies just like hers in the good old days before the world began to end. 

“You can come with me,” Hermann had tried. “We could do it together. We’re always at our best together.” 

“I will be there with you,” Newton had said but that wasn’t what Hermann had meant and he knew it. 

“Yes, by all means. Me at my age beginning to be hounded by the AARP and you’ll still be getting carded at the bar,” Hermann had said wryly. 

“Hey,” Newton had said, laughing. “I can’t help it the world is not a welcoming place for the chronologically challenged!” 

“Newton. Please.” 

Hermann had heard his own voice crack but he couldn’t help it and he honestly didn’t give a damn. 

Newton’s smile had faded. “Hermann. I can’t. You know I can’t.” 

“No I don’t! You can’t just tell me I know something and make it so!” 

“Hermann, if I go back you know exactly what’s going to happen,” Newton had said, sounding impossibly tired all of a sudden. “I’ll spend years surrounded by kaiju parts. Years. I know better how to preserve parts than I did before and there’s so much to be learned from any piece. At some point, someone will send me a brain.” 

Hermann had felt all the air leaving his body. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t possibly. You know exactly what would happen and they’re gone and they were never in you then.” 

“I wish I could be as sure as you are,” Newton had said, his smile more heartbreaking than any frown would have been. 

“You don’t have to be sure. I’ll be sure enough for both of us,” Hermann had said fiercely. 

Newton had stood on his tiptoes and brushed his lips against Hermann’s forehead. “That’s normally enough, Hermann. Any other day, it’s more than enough. Any other day, I’ll take that and run to the goddamn bank with it. But you know to watch me and so do enough other people. It would be so much harder if I were to try and make something. And you have the time and energy to see if I start acting off. Back during the war? We didn’t always have the time or energy to shower. I know we always used to joke that you hadn’t changed your socks since you stepped foot in the Shatterdome but it’s the jokes based on real life that are the funniest, you know? And I am simply not willing to put the fate of this entire dimension at risk in case I relapse. I’m an addict, Hermann, much as you don’t like to admit it and as long as I’ve been clean. I’m always going to be. But younger me? He’s never snorted the stuff and if you get him that information and that brain just happens to mysteriously die before he can drift…Well. That’s there’s a team I’d bet on any day.” 

He was right. The worst part was he was right and he knew it and he was calmly asking Hermann to abandon him after he had promised he’d never do that again. Not after what their last time apart had wrought. 

All Hermann had been able to say was, “Newton, please.” 

Newton’s eyes had been kind and not unsympathetic but there was nothing either of them could do. He was right. 

And three days later Hermann found himself sitting in this quaint little café. 

This was going to be easy. This was only Newton. He knew Newton better than anyone. 

Nothing about Newton had ever been easy. Half the time Newton even did it on purpose. 

Last time it really was Newton’s fault that things had turned out so badly, not that Newton had ever been willing to concede this. 

Granted once they had gotten off on the wrong foot, Hermann had given as good as he had gotten instead of allowing Newton to furiously backtrack and starting again but, really, what else could he have done? 

They hadn’t exchanged photographs or even descriptions of each other. Hermann of course lacked social media presence and felt it would be unsporting to discover an image of Newton while Newton himself lacked the ability to obtain one of Hermann. 

So handkerchiefs. Hermann had been feeling rather whimsical when he had suggested it. He had heard – mostly from romance stories, come to think of it – of two people meeting in person for the first time having some sort of signal by which they could recognize the other. A book, perhaps, or a flower. Or a handkerchief. He didn’t remember why he had chosen a handkerchief. Perhaps he had thought it was less obtrusive than the both of them dragging around the same book and less obviously romantic than a flower. 

Newton had hesitated then agreed and later – years and years later when they could start to laugh about these things – he had explained his mad dash around the city to find one. He might have just told Hermann of his dilemma. He might have been a little less hopeless and located one. Hermann had certainly not had a problem. Despite what Newton seemed to think, he hadn’t always carried one around with him. That had really only started upon prolonged exposure to Newton and his messes. 

Hermann had sat at this exact table, if memory served him well, and for this exact reason. He knew he would be early, felt fairly confident that Newton would arrive in the nick of time at the very earliest, and wanted to catch his first glimpse of him as soon as possible. And he had. 

And Newton had looked so eager and so underdressed he had made Hermann, who had dressed perfectly sensibly really, feel terribly overdressed. He had all but bounced up and down and beamed as he scanned the café for Hermann and Hermann had felt himself fall just a little bit in love. Seeing Newton happy, even when that happiness was at Hermann’s expense, had always done things to him. For the longest time he didn’t know if he cherished those last few moments of hope or resented them. When it came to Newton, he had found, there sometimes wasn’t a difference. 

Newton’s eyes had slid right past Hermann and he had pulled out his phone and typed out a message. 

Hermann hadn’t quite known what to make of it and was just about to wave or stand or find some other way to get Newton’s attention when his phone had beeped and he saw Newton’s email wondering where he was because he had looked everywhere in the shop and hadn’t seen him. 

Bewildered, Hermann’s head had shot up again and Newton eyes flickered to him for a few moments then away again, no trace of recognition in them. 

Well, that simply hadn’t made any sense at all. Hadn’t he seen the handkerchief? He had thought it was rather prominently placed on the table but if Newton hadn’t been looking at the table (perhaps he thought it was worn as an ascot or placed in his pocket? Newton had not seemed to have the greatest grasp on the purpose and utility of handkerchiefs) then he might not have seen it. 

Hermann had picked up the handkerchief and, when Newton next glanced over, made a show of adjusting it. Still nothing. 

Eventually Hermann felt annoyance grow. Had Newton forgot? He had his own which was navy and appeared to have small green polka dots but upon closer inspection had been many tiny fire-breathing Godzillas. Where Newton had found that, Hermann couldn’t even begin to guess and the fact he was looking for something that fit his interests might have explained why it took him so long to locate a handkerchief. 

“Newton, really,” he had said, his tone colder and more irritated than he had intended. 

Newton had jumped and still looked around wildly before his eyes, almost reluctantly, settled on Hermann and he had uncertainly made his way over to him. “Hermann?” he had asked as if this couldn’t possibly be right. “I thought you were like my age, not like some dude in the middle of a midlife crisis. I know I’m 27 and all and I wrote to you when I was 23 but I’m still kind of expecting Chris Hansen to pop out somewhere.” 

Hermann hadn’t quite understood what Newton had meant but he knew when he was being insulted. 

So, really, was it a wonder they had refused to speak for three years until they had been shoved together to try and save the world? 

Even if that had been the end of it and, well, it wasn’t. He was pretty sure that back in 2040 they were still banned from that café but he was a little scared to see for himself. 

This time, he promised himself, this time would be different. Newton would likely still be an absolute disaster because he was Newton and practically an infant at this point but he didn’t have to react in kind. He was hardly going to let Newton walk all over him – he would never be able to stand to do that and Newton wouldn’t be able to stand being around him if he did – but he was a grown man not still caught in that awkward stage between being a juvenile and being an adult and not quite knowing his place in the world. He knew just how much this relationship meant to him and it was a hell of a lot more than his previous self had been able to fathom even at his most optimistic and sentimental. 

So. First thing’s first. It was too late when he had woken up that morning to change the handkerchief. Well, perhaps not but Newton still had that Godzilla handkerchief and Hermann still maintained it was a perfectly viable plan. 

But while he was hardly going to dress to Newton’s tastes as a rule, he could at least make an effort to create the right impression during their first meeting, the one he was more desperate to go well than he had been even back then when he had left heartbroken and convinced that he was a fool and was never going to be happy again. 

This time he didn’t wear the glasses with a chain around his neck or the sweater that had once belonged to his grandfather. He didn’t wear the first pair of pants he found lying on the floor or the same walking shoes he wore everywhere he didn’t need to have dress shoes. The hair Newton would simply have to live with and honestly it wasn’t nearly as jarring as Newton’s little collection of tattoos that he never took the time to explain to the horrified. Maybe he was right that it wouldn’t change anything and they still wouldn’t get it but the point was that he never even tried. 

This time he bought a turtle-neck in the color he knew Newton thought looked best on him. His pants were freshly ironed and properly fitting, perhaps even a little tight. He would have worn one of his perfectly good pairs of dress shoes if he didn’t know it would immediately make Newton reevaluate his decision to have anything to do with him and instead bought a pair of good, sturdy boots much like the ones Newton had bought Hermann for his birthday one year. 

This time when Newton entered the café, Hermann didn’t wait to see what sort of mess Newton would make of their first encounter if left to his own devices (surely it couldn’t have been worse than before. Surely it couldn’t be. But he’d learned the hard way to underestimate Newton Geiszler at his own peril). He couldn’t have stopped the brilliant and probably embarrassingly eager smile from overtaking his face if he tried and he immediately stood to greet him. “Newton! You look exactly like I imagined you would.”

Well. Almost. Hermann had forgotten that Newton could ever look that impossibly young. That he could ever smile with his whole heart not weighed down by the impossible demands the world had placed on him. 

Logically Hermann knew he was being ridiculous. Newton was 27 years old. He had been with the PPDC for a year. He had six PhDs and thinking about the schedule Newton had kept to to achieve that still gave him sympathy anxiety. 

But the man in front of him had no idea what it was like to be the only thing standing between the world and destruction. To slowly watch the apocalypse creep closer. To be asked to destroy himself on the chance that it would give them the information they needed to even begin to know how to stop the monsters from wiping them out for the real estate. He had never had to face down mobsters or be personally targeted by monsters or been shunned by the terrified and uncaring masses who wanted nothing more than for him to be eaten so they might be left alone. 

He had never had monsters in his head. He didn’t know what it was like to be unmade and put back together wrong, the way an overwhelming alien force wanted him to be. He had never purposefully driven the people who loved him away from him. He had never had to look at his email and find a new draft of a plea for help every day or unsent responses to Hermann’s messages piling up over the years. He didn’t know what it was to wear horrible orange sunglasses indoors so the precursors would feel more comfortable with the color of the sky and to hide any microexpression of distress that might slip out. He hadn’t learned how much alcohol he could drink in a night before his liver failed him or how to make himself vomit on command in the morning. He didn’t know what it was to be so very alone everywhere but in his own head. He had never felt the beating pulse of his closest friend under his fingers and had no choice but to watch his own hands attempt to choke the life out of him. He had never been forced to listen to people have conversation after conversation after conversation about him as if he weren’t even in the room. He had never been treated like a criminal in first a chair then a cell and watched protests on the news denouncing him as a war criminal and a traitor to humanity when legally he had been exonerated. He had never woken up, panicked but unmoving, because he forgot he was free again. He had never been unable to meet Hermann’s eyes out of sheer guilt and shame. 

Hermann wondered how far he would be willing to go to make sure he never did. 

Newton blinked three times in rapid succession, his own bright smile turning quickly to confusion. “I do?” 

Hermann could understand his confusion. Newton was wearing a t-shirt for his band and jeans so tight they had to be painful. He was wearing lace-up boots that Hermann could only describe as Gothic. Or maybe Shakespeare. There was a raven on the outside of one boot and a skeletal hand on the other. The second boot had a human skull on one side and some sort of particularly gothic bat on the other. It was chaotic and ridiculous and so wonderfully Newton Hermann could scream. When was the last time Newton had given any thought at all to his footwear? 

And he already had tattoos. He remembered that. Most of his arms were empty, his chest would likely still be bare, but there were…how many kaiju felled at this juncture? Trespasser, Hundun, Kaiceph, Scissure, Karloff, Reckoner, Onibaba, Itak, Ragnarok, Yamarahi. Ten kaiju. That left thirty-four attacks still to live through. 

Unless. 

Hermann almost couldn’t remember precisely what he had imagined Newton to be but it was certainly nothing like what he had actually gotten. Oh, he hadn’t expected anyone much like himself but no one expected Newton Geiszler. It was patently impossible. Even after knowing him for twenty years (he really must stop thinking like that, he had known this boy for four) he still didn’t always know what to expect from him. 

But this time he did know a little more than he had then. This time he saw Newton’s constant movement and almost desperate smile as the nervous energy that it was. Sometimes Hermann rather supposed that the in-person meeting be a disaster had worried Newton more and hit him harder than it ever had Hermann, despite how very painful Hermann had found the whole experience. But, unusual for the both of them, Hermann had been the one to first take the risk and suggest that they meet while Newton had dragged his feet and needed to be convinced that it wouldn’t ruin everything or even change all that much. 

Hermann had once promised him that no matter what happened, no matter if he was as annoying as Bastien at his worst, he would still want Newton in his life because they were too brilliant together and their friendship too important to allow for anything else. 

And he had meant it then and meant it still. 

They had just lost their way for quite a few years. 

Not this time. 

“You do,” Hermann said simply. He was still smiling. 

Newton shifted uncertainly. “Oh. Um. I’m glad. I think. Is that, uh…” 

Hermann’s smile widened. “Trust me, Newton. It is a very good thing.” 

Newton relaxed minutely. “Oh, well, good!” He sat down at Hermann’s table. “Oh, wait, do you mind if I…?” 

“No, by all means,” Hermann said, gesturing for Newton to go up and order something. 

With a polite smile and one last look at Hermann, Newton headed up to the counter. 

Hermann told himself he wasn’t being creepy watching him. Thinking about how he even moved differently now than he had after the precursors. Than he had even after the war, really. 

Newton chattered amiably to the woman making the coffee and even made her laugh which gave him a triumphant flush. Good, perhaps this would settle his nerves. Hermann was far past the point of jealousy when it came to Newton. There was really little point for either of them to feel that way. 

Newton returned with his coffee, likely some bizarre mixture he’d read about on the internet knowing him and that would kill a diabetic, and a muffin. Newton had once told him that he didn’t care what nutritionists said, he refused to believe that muffins weren’t good for you. Hermann hadn’t even wanted to touch that one. 

“So I thought about it,” Newton announced, plopping unceremoniously into his seat. “And you are nothing like I imagined you’d be at all.” 

Hermann snorted. He couldn’t help it. 

Newton frowned. “What?” 

“I’m just curious what you did expect,” Hermann explained. 

“Okay, Hermann. Hermann,” Newton repeated, a slightly helpless smile creeping over his face unbidden at the word. “Sorry, I just…you know?” 

“Of course I do,” Hermann said quietly. “I feel quite the same way. Newton.’ 

“You know,” Newton said, his smile growing. “Most people call me Newt.” 

“I know,” Hermann said. “But I call you Newton and I think you’re going to need to decide very quickly if that’s really the hill you want to die on.” 

Newton drummed his fingers on the table. “I’ll get back to you on that, Hermann. But, fair warning, if I do end up allowing it then you have to know that I’m going to have to start calling you Herms. How about that, huh?” His tone was almost challenging. 

“I’m not worried,” Hermann replied. “I’ve been called worse and I think I know enough about you to know you’re going to call me that no matter what I do anyway so…” 

Newton laughed. “Well. You may have a point. It just really rolls off the tongue, you know?” 

“I’m sure I don’t,” Hermann replied. “But you were going to tell me what you imagined I would be.” 

“I don’t know,” Newton said, grinning sheepishly. “Maybe a guy with rock star glasses like mine and an awesome leather jacket? I don’t know, I definitely got a leather jacket vibe from you. In fact, even though you aren’t wearing one right now I’m pinning all my hopes on you having one you bust out when you want to be especially badass. If you tell me you don’t, I’m probably going to cry, just so you know.” 

In 2017 of course Hermann didn’t own any such thing. He knew for a fact that Newton had three identical jackets. 

In 2035, Hermann had gone out and purchased one and felt utterly ridiculous but Newton had been drowning in hopelessness and the mantra of ‘I’m not strong enough’ and Hermann would have gone to much more desperate lengths to see Newton smile. 

He wondered vaguely how long it would take Newton to convince him to purchase one this time. Hopefully under much better circumstances. 

“Fine, I won’t tell you,” Hermann said. “Is there a reason you imagined me as Ian Malcolm?” 

Newton barked out a startled laugh. “That obvious, huh?” 

Hermann smiled back. “Just a little. I grew up on Jurassic Park, too. I saw the third in theaters and my father made the questionable decision of taking all of us. My youngest brother was two at the time. He was not a, shall we say, passive viewer at that age.”

Newton laughed again. “Oh, I’ll just bet. That theater must have hated you.” 

“In fairness, I hated us, just a little,” Hermann said. “So sorry I left my leather jacket in the car, Newton, but if it helps I am a huge believer in the concept of life always finding a way.” 

“Hot,” Newton said absently. “What about chaos theory?” 

“I do believe I’m looking at all the proof I need for the validity of chaos theory.” 

Newton beamed at him. “You know, I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

Hermann couldn’t control his answering grin if he tried. “Believe me, Newton, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” 

Newton leaned forwards in his chair. “You know-” He broke off, biting his lip, silently warring with himself. 

Hermann tried not to make it too obvious he was staring at his lips. At any rate, he could see the exact moment that Newton decided to go for it. 

“I think this is actually going pretty well.” 

He looked so vulnerable then. He had been so worried about this meeting, about getting it right and not ruining their friendship with the reality of his presence and Newton in real time where he couldn’t edit and think things through before Hermann saw it. He had wanted so badly to meet Hermann in person but had been so terrified of ruining it (and no matter what Newton felt afterwards, he had been absolutely convinced that Hermann would be perfect and he would ruin everything going into the meeting) that he had to be persuaded to even come. Hermann had made so many promises and, for one reason or another, hadn’t been able to keep any of them. Hermann wasn’t the only reason things had turned out that way but, watching Newton’s stark relief and lingering uncertainty, Hermann could feel his heart breaking all over again for their first meeting. 

All he could do was move forward and strive, as always, to be better. 

“Interesting theory,” Hermann said lightly. “Counterproposal: this is going very well.” 

“Oh, I want to keep you,” Newton breathed, his eyes impossibly fond. He tensed. “I, that is, I mean-”

“Newton,” Hermann interrupted the flailing. On other occasions, it was quite amusing to see Newton in such a state. But this time was different. “I’ve known you for years now. You are one of the most important people in my life. I think I know you well enough by now to know what you mean. And, for the record, I want to keep you, too.” 

Newton’s mouth dropped open and as he blinked rapidly Hermann observed the lovely shade of pink his ears were turning. “Oh, that’s…that’s…that’s good to hear,” he finally settled on. He didn’t sound convinced, exactly, but more like he wanted to be. 

Hermann understood. And he would prove his staying power. He had learned the hard way how much he didn’t want a life without Newton and what could go wrong when they weren’t in each other’s lives. He had stayed until every last drop of the Anteverse had drained out of that precious head. 

There was no way to explain to Newton that there was literally nothing he could ever say or do that would scare him away. Even if he told Newton and convinced him (Newton could so easily believe six impossible things before breakfast and he wished that, even now, it wasn’t so easy to see Alice in Newt) it would only upset him. Likely frighten him and most definitely drive him to recklessness. 

“It is now,” Hermann said agreeably. “Just wait until I keep you up playing the violin at three in the morning.” 

“Hey, you get a bitching skull and a deerstalker cap and you can do whatever you want,” Newton said laughing. 

“I want that in writing.” 

“Oh, no, any situation where you think you might need that in writing is one where I’m really going to wish I hadn’t given you that in writing,” Newton told him. 

“That’s probably for the best,” Hermann admitted. “I would likely abuse the privilege. You know. Make copies. Laminate it. Give it to a notary.” 

Newton gave a mock shudder. “Remind me to never let you get your hands on my signature.” 

Hermann just waited. 

Newton winced. “I’m like a hundred signatures too late for that, aren’t I?”

“One hundred and seventeen.” 

Newton blinked and a bright smile bloomed on his face. “Oh. I. Well. I knew exactly how many letters I sent to you but I kind of didn’t want to weird you out, you know?” 

“Newton, you would be surprised at the exact level of weird tolerance I have,” Hermann replied. “And people don’t seem to notice this about me but I’m a rather strange individual myself.” 

Newton snorted. “Right.” 

“I’d give you an example,” Hermann offered, “but that would seem like I was just reaching.” 

“It’s okay, Hermann,” Newton said kindly. “You don’t have to try so hard just because I’m weird. I know I’m a lot. Too much sometimes. That’s why I was worried about meeting you. It’s why I guess I still am worried.” 

“Newton,” Hermann said, placing his hand on the table near Newton’s. This was a lot very quickly but it was important that he told Newton this. “You’re not too much.” 

Newton flashed bright, obviously false smile. “Nah, of course not.” 

“Newton. I mean it.” 

Newton sighed and the fake grin melted off his face. “I’m sure you do. But, thing is, you barely know me.” 

“I’ve known you for four years.” He’d known him half his life. 

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not the same. So while I appreciate that you don’t, like, hate me on sight forgive me if I’m not willing to plot out the rest of our lives as besties just yet.” 

“I know the important things,” Hermann said again. “And the rest will come in time. For now, I know that you’re quite right that you are a lot.” 

Newton’s lips twisted. “See? I-”

“You didn’t let me finish. You are a lot but you have to be. The world has already asked so much of you and with this war and the sheer impossibility of our task it will ask even more. Too much, really. If you were one iota less you would not be able to withstand it.” 

Newton stared at him, expression strangely blank. His breathing was shallow and he blinked several times in quick succession. 

Hermann just waited. 

Finally, Newton said, his voice shaky, “I think that may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” 

“It’s true,” Hermann said simply. 

“I hope so.” Newton shook his head. “God why is this even happening?” 

“You’ll have to be more specific, Newton. Because if you mean our meeting then let me remind you this was prearranged.” 

“No, I know that,” Newton said. “But like I had this stupid fear that this was going to terrible, you know? That I’d say something stupid and you wouldn’t get me or, worse, you’d get me too well and decide I wasn’t worth your time after all. That I’d get my hopes up and then lose everything.” 

“Forgive me, Newton, but you don’t sound like you had your hopes up,” Hermann said. 

Newton quirked a sad little grin. “Oh, but I did. I tried not to, you know. Because even if it didn’t turn out to be, like, the worst day of my life I’ve seen 500 Days of Summer enough to know this difference between expectations and reality. It might just be a perfectly nice meeting and you might have been a perfectly nice guy but that doesn’t mean, I don’t know, fireworks.” 

“It doesn’t have to mean fireworks,” Hermann agreed carefully. “Not necessarily.” 

Newton could hear what he wasn’t asking and his grin turned teasing. “Maybe a few small ones. We’ll see.” 

“Okay, well how about this,” Hermann said, straightening himself up. 

“Lay it on me, dude.” 

“Newton, I like your tattoos and want to hear more about them.” 

Whatever Newton had been expecting, that clearly wasn’t it. His eyebrows shot up. “Dude, don’t take this the wrong way but I think I love you.” 

Hermann couldn’t help but laugh gently. “Only you, Newton, would consider that appropriate to say on the first date. Well, you and Ted Mosby but I know that-”

“Okay, so, first of all how dare you compare me to that entitled ‘nice guy’ dickhead, I can’t even…wait. Wait, wait, wait. Shut up,” Newton said, holding up a hand despite the fact that Hermann hadn’t actually said anything. “I need to think. Wait. You said date. First date. So not only a date but a date that implies the existence of future dates. With me. And you. You and me.” 

Hermann nodded solemnly. “So I did.” 

“So…this is…a d-date?” Newton’s voice squeaked on the final word. 

Hermann felt a ridiculously fond smile form on his face as his heart positively ached but not in a bad way. 

“That is certainly how I was thinking of it,” Hermann said. “Though I suppose it’s really up to you if it is or not. I know the current lexicon refers to consent as being sexy but I’ve always thought that that’s not the best way to phrase it because it paints it as being a positive bonus and not the most basic foundation of any intimate relationship interaction.” 

Newton’s eyes were soft. “Would you ever work in the private sector?”

Years of quietly and quite willfully unfairly resenting Shao’s corporation and everything it stood for as Newt’s own anti-capitalist rants echoed in his head came to mind. “I can’t definitely promise that I wouldn’t but I do know it would take a whole awful lot.” 

Newton nodded approvingly. “Would you ever risk your safety for the good of scientific progress and, given the nature of our work, the human race?”

“Not only would I but I have on multiple occasions,” Hermann replied. “Though I need to believe that it is necessary for whatever reason and not just the fastest or easiest way to achieve results and I know I am significantly less reckless than you are, Newton.” 

Newton just waved that caveat off. “Are you concerned with what the PPDC will do with all this money and power and resources once we save the world and close the Breach?” 

“I am highly concerned,” Hermann replied. “I know that they are a force for good right now and we are all dependent on them to survive this but I can also all too easily see the militarization of the PPDC once the kaiju are gone and they would use the Jaeger technology to police the people.” 

Newton was staring dreamily at him. “Marry me.” 

Hermann smiled softly back at him. “Not today, I don’t think.” 

“Well,” Newton said, not at all put off and shrugging casually. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” 

“I can blame him for completely failing to tell me about his tattoos, however,” Hermann said pointedly. 

Newton started. “Oh, right. Those. You know, not everyone even recognizes them as kaiju. They’re not exact replicas. I didn’t want to just tattoo a photo. They’re really stylized and badass and awesome. So you’ve got a good eye to even be able to tell first of all.” 

“Of course I’d know them. I do work with the PPDC.”

Newton huffed a laugh. “Yeah, so do I, and trust me that’s not a guarantee. Probably for the best if some of the reactions I’ve gotten are any indication.” 

Hermann narrowed his eyes at him. “Reactions?” 

Newton made a face and quickly tried to backpedal. “Oh, it’s not a big deal, really. Like I said, for the most part people don’t even recognize.” 

“But when they do.” 

“Well…it’s same as anything. Some people think it’s cool either because they get what I’m going for or just appreciate the aesthetic of tattooing giant monsters to you. Or, well, there’s the kaiju groupies who mistake me for one of theirs and I am not about that life,” Newton said, grimacing. 

Hermann guiltily recalled all those times he’d called Newton a kaiju groupie himself. He rather hoped Newton knew he hadn’t meant it. “And those that don’t?” 

“Well usually it’s just disgusted looks, maybe a harsh word or even a whole rant if the person lost someone,” Newton continued. “But sometimes…I mean, have I gotten my ass kicked because of my tattoos? A couple of times, sure. But I’m getting better at talking them down and anyway I haven’t broken anything yet so it’s all…whatever, you know?” 

But Hermann shook his head. “No, I don’t know.” 

A complicated series of expressions came over Newton’s face. “Hermann-”

“I don’t mean to imply that you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” Hermann interrupted. “You have quite a few tattoos and you haven’t tried to cover them up, even after the first time. And even with these attacks I do believe you know how to take care of yourself. But while you may see the risk of violence as an acceptable price to pay to for your tattoos, don’t expect me to not be highly worried and angry on your behalf.” 

Newton smiled slowly at that. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Take my side against the world’s any day, my man.” 

“Oh, trust me, I intend to,” Hermann said dryly. “May I?” 

“What? Oh, yeah, of course,” Newton said, laying his arms across the table proudly. 

“Trespasser,” Hermann said, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the kaiju. 

“I thought I was dreaming when I first saw the footage,” Newton admitted. “Like it’s horrible to think about now but…not in a good way, you understand. Like I literally thought I was asleep. I’ve loved monster movies my whole life and this is obviously very different because it’s all come to life and we actually have to deal with the consequences of it. The death toll was staggering. By the time they finally brought it down I thought the world was going to end.” 

“I know the feeling,” Hermann said heavily. “I couldn’t believe it at first, either. It seemed to be some sort of twisted hoax and nobody quite knew what was going on. A giant monster just attacking from the sea? It seemed like something out of Godzilla, not real life.” 

“But it was real and I didn’t…I don’t love them, okay, I really don’t. But I was fascinated. I couldn’t look away. Six days and I only slept when I literally passed out. I just sat in front of the screen and wanted more. I wanted to know everything. I still do.” 

“I can’t say I understand the impulse,” Hermann admitted. “But then I’m no biologist. In my line of work, I really don’t need to. We do desperately need someone like you not just willing but wanting to learn everything you can.” 

Newton laughed. “Well I certainly have that going for me. Maybe it’s not, you know, scientific to call myself the world’s leading expert on kaiju but, like, come on. I totally am. And one of these days I may even learn how to talk about them without making people wonder if I’m about to go off and join one of those creepy as fuck cults.” 

Hermann snorted. “I won’t hold my breath. But I get it. You’re passionate and being willing to ask these questions and to want to take things apart and understand them will get us further than someone who just wants to know how to destroy them. We can destroy them just fine as they come now. What we need is to know the hows and the whys and the whats so we can stop waiting for the next monster to rise from the deep and destroy another city.” 

Hermann could almost see the hearts in Newton’s eyes. “See, I knew you’d understand,” he said excitedly. “I just knew it! If anyone would understand, it would be you. Even Dad and Uncle Illia don’t understand but, well, they’ve never been all that up on science in the first place. But you…you’re like my brain twin.” 

Hermann tried very hard not to let any of the ache in his chest he was feeling at having so thoroughly not understood for so many years, for having let Newton done that bad, show on his face. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say we were brain twins. We are quite radically different, in truth. We’re more like left brain and right brain if you must make an analogy of it.” 

Newton shook his head stubbornly and pointed at Hermann. “Brain twin.” 

Hermann sighed and shook his head. “As you like, Newton.” 

Newton grinned. “I do like the sound of that.” 

“Well don’t get used to it,” Hermann warned. “When it’s on a subject I care at all about – or even if I’m just in a certain mood – I will argue to the death.” 

“I look forward to it,” Newton said, his smile widening. “Me, I’m the same way. You should have seen the great Starbucks/Dunkin Donuts fight of 2015. You know, the first thing I did after Trespasser died was take a nap. That…wasn’t entirely voluntary, it was just a thing that needed to happen. But the very next thing I did was look up anyone and everyone who was doing anything that might relate to what had just happened, who had any ideas about what all of this meant. I sent out a lot of letters. I got responses from maybe half. And I got some good info out of that, made some good contacts. But there’s only one guy I’m still writing to today. Only one brain twin.” 

Hermann was really going to regret giving him permission to call them that, even though he had no doubt it would have made no difference in the end as Newton would have done it anyway. “I was different. I tried to understand, yes, but I knew that nobody really understood and I was too busy trying to figure out my own perspective of what had happened to want that tainted with the equally unsound theories of others. But then I got your letter. And I-I almost didn’t write back. I kept setting it aside and making up my mind to throw it out or to write you back and let you know I wasn’t interested in corresponding because that would be the more polite thing to do. But every time I tried I looked it over once again and…I really don’t know what it was. But I couldn’t bring myself to reject your overture. And so I thought, well, I’ll write back. Just the once. He clearly put so much of himself into his 17-page handwritten double-sided letter and that deserves something.” 

Newton looked almost embarrassed. “17 pages, huh?” 

“Handwritten and double-sided,” Hermann repeated. 

“I don’t remember that but I’ll take your word for it,” Newton said. 

“I almost forgot about it after I sent it off but then you responded and you just seemed so excited that I had replied and you had some fascinating takes and some questions I hadn’t considered and how could I have just left it there? And then before you knew it I was suggesting that we meet and here we are.” 

“Here we are,” Newton said happily. His forearms were still on the table. 

“Hundun,” Hermann said, tracing the second kaiju carefully. 

Newton shivered under his touch. “The thing to understand that sometimes gets lost with how excited I get is that I wasn’t happy that Hundun appeared. I wanted to be right because I love being right and feeling vindicated and all and it was a new data piece instead of just spending forever wondering what even happed with Trespasser and maybe it was a leftover dinosaur or something. But it was the perfect storm of Hundun showing up in, you know, a literal storm and nobody being able to let the outside world know for hours and then once they did no one was prepared because everyone had just wanted to believe that what had happened was a one-off and we were safe and it was six months ago.” 

“I wanted to believe it was an anomaly that would not be repeated,” Hermann admitted. “But I am a mathematician. If something, however unlikely, can happen once it can happen again. And you were so certain.” 

Newton closed his eyes and let out a frustrated huff. “No one would listen to me. Not then. Afterwards, when I was like the only one insisting this wasn’t the end? I got some credibility then. And, again, it was horrible to see all that destruction and knowing all those people died. It really was.” 

Hermann thought he knew why Newton kept emphasizing it. “But you grew up always rooting for the monster. For the kaiju.” 

Newton’s mouth twisted. “Not for that kaiju. But it’s just hard to separate it out, you know? It felt just like that. Even six months in it was hard to really believe that it was really. I knew intellectually but internalizing it? It hadn’t hit me yet. I hadn’t gotten my hands on any samples yet.” 

Hermann traced the next figure. “Kaiceph.” 

“The third attack. Ten months after the first. By this point we’d all gotten the picture that this wasn’t going to stop happening. And yet from the way we acted we weren’t anymore prepared than the first time. I mean, sure, we had stopped all of them pretty quick. The first one took just six days and the second way less than that. But the amount of damage a creature that size can do in that time…”

“We were still using the same weapons to defeat them,” Herman said, nodding. “And while they were unquestionably effective, they were killing just as many people as the kaiju themselves had. It was an untenable situation and we spent decades arguing over Hiroshima and Nagasaki and now we’ve sent nuclear missiles at civilian population centers three times in a year. Trespasser killed tens of thousands but everyone who was in Oakland died by the end and that city had a population of over 400,000. How many were killed by the kaiju and how many were killed by us?” 

Newton’s gaze was sharp. “You can’t think of it that way, Hermann. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

Hermann smiled wryly. “I’m afraid I have little choice in the matter. I’m a mathematician, you see. I’m always drawn to the numbers.” 

“Still,” Newton said, looking stubborn. 

“Well how about this,” Hermann said gently. “A compromise, if you will. I will continue to look at the numbers and memorize every statistic, every missed chance, every failure. And you will come rescue me when I forget that we haven’t lost yet and the whole point of this is not just to mourn and regret but to preserve what we can and to count all the lives not yet lost.” 

Hermann was surprised to see Newton nodding solemnly at him. “I will. I’m good at that, you know? Bringing the levity. Even if it’ll make you want to strangle me sometimes.” 

He hadn’t been the one to strangle Newton. But then, Newton hadn’t been the one to strangle him, either. His hands but the precursors’ iron will and nobody and everybody to blame. 

“Not strangle, I shouldn’t think,” Hermann said tightly. 

Newton shrugged his acquiescence. “Throw chalk at me or something. Whack me with your cane.” 

“Now that does sound more like me,” Hermann admitted. 

“Ah, see, there we go!” Newton said brightly. 

“And you…want to drive me to this?” Hermann asked, surprised.

“Well of course,” Newton said, blinking at him. “I don’t know if I ever mentioned this but I subscribe to the Tinkerbell theory of emotions.” 

“You most certainly have not,” Hermann said. This was rather odd given everything else he knew about the man. But, given the name, it was likely to be something truly ridiculous and perhaps he hadn’t trusted Hermann with it after their less-than-idea initial meeting. Something about that hurt. But Newton was willing to share it now. 

“Well, it’s kind of silly but it really works,” Newton cautioned. “You know Tinkerbell in Peter Pan, right? Well, have you ever read the book?” 

“I have,” Hermann said. 

“Well, to quote the author, ‘Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.’ And we’re much bigger than tiny fairies but the same principle tends to apply. Well, sure, sometimes you can be multiple things especially if they’re related. Sad and disappointed. Angry and frustrated. Happy and excited. But even if, say, you’re both angry and sad then one of them has to take precedence. And fear and annoyance just do not go together at all. Trust me, I’ve got the receipts. And I don’t know about you but I’d much rather be annoyed than terrified.” 

Hermann sat with that for a moment. Rethought a few things. “So would I.” 

Newton grinned at him. “See, we’ll get along great!” 

“Not too great,” Hermann said dryly. “Else it would defeat the point entirely.” 

Newton laughed. “Good point.” His mirth faded. “But yeah, Oakland and half of Cabo San Lucas. Manilla survives but it’s never going to be the same.” 

“So strange,” Hermann mused. “The Breach is in the same place and the attacks are nowhere near it.” 

Newton bit his lip. “I don’t understand it, either. I mean, it’s clear that they’re targeting heavy population centers for whatever reason – if only because they’ve always gone for heavy population centers – but, like, China’s right there. India’s right there. Why go where they did?” 

Hermann couldn’t help it. “Perhaps the attacks aren’t random at all. Perhaps some alien will is guiding them to try and take us out before they move in themselves.” 

Newton nodded slowly, his eyes flickering thoughtfully. “It’s certainly worth considering. I’ve heard worse theories. That’d really be something, huh?” 

“It would indeed be ‘something’, though nothing good,” Hermann said flatly. “In fact, I am going to take the extraordinarily preemptive step of declaring that whatever otherworldly power is directing the kaiju to kill us all are horrible fascists and I want nothing to do with them.” 

Newton’s jaw had dropped and he was staring at Hermann as though he hung the stars. 

“What?” Hermann asked, feeling ridiculously self-conscious. 

“Herms,” Newton breathed (apparently either forgetting their deal or quickly deciding he was alright with being Newton to Hermann). “You just insulted something by calling it a fascist!” 

So he had. Was that really so strange? Hermann regularly insulted people and things by calling them fascists. But then, where had he picked that up from anyway? 

Hermann grinned at him. “Well, I do absolutely abhor fascists. Some of my least favorite things in the world. And since the alien entities I’ve come to accept are controlling the kaiju are fascists, who can even blame me for that?” 

“Well I couldn’t blame you one way or another,” Newton said. “Fascists are the literal worst. Oh my God, wow, you are so much cooler than I thought you were. N-not that I didn’t think you were cool, or anything! I knew you were awesome, we’ve been writing for years! It’s just…you know.”

“I know,” Hermann agreed with a smile. “For the record I didn’t expect such a rock star in you.” 

“You mean that in a good way, right?” Newton asked, a little uncertainly. 

Hermann raised an eyebrow. “I just called you a rock star. What other way is there to mean that?” 

Newton melted into a sigh and a soppy grin. “You’re perfect.” 

Herman chuckled lightly. “ ‘You’re perfect. So we’re perfect together. Born to be forever.’”

“Man, I love Wicked,” Newton said happily. 

“I thought you might,” Hermann said. He reached over and Newton obediently laid his forearm out. “Scissure.” 

“After this one they come up with the idea behind the Jaegers. After this they found the PPDC.” 

“It only took four of them before people start to take this seriously,” Hermann said, trying very hard to keep any bitterness out of his voice. He was sure he hadn’t succeeded completely. 

This one killed Chuck’s mother. 

Newton gave him a look of complete understanding and it made Hermann shiver. 

“I kind of liked the wings,” he admitted. 

Hermann let out a surprised laugh. “Of course you did.” 

“I mean, at that point I don’t want to say it was getting dull because each kaiju was something new and so many goddamn people died. But it just felt like we were getting stuck in a rut, you know? Months would pass and something would appear and destroy so much before we could even have time to catch our breath and then it just…nuclear missiles became the answer. Nuclear missiles should never be the answer. Even if we weren’t all still playing chicken with mutually assured destruction, the collateral damage was just too high. And maybe at this point it’ll be a luxury to get to have to face the kind of long-term horrors that Japan did back then but…in a way isn’t in mutually assured destruction?” Newton rambled. “We destroy the kaiju, we destroy ourselves. If we don’t the kaiju destroys us anyway in new and different ways.” 

“Part of me still wishes I could have piloted a Jaeger,” Hermann admitted quietly. He tried not to look at his leg. “But, well…”

Newton snorted. “Oh, don’t I know it? It was a real pre-Avengers Iron Man moment for me, let me tell you. I just wanted to help save the world, you didn’t have to list off every other goddamn diagnosis in the DSM!” 

“We would be amazing Jaeger pilots,” Hermann said, nodding decisively. 

“Oh, we so would be,” Newton agreed. “You just know we’re drift compatible.” 

Hermann stilled. “Do I?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Newton said, nodding. “No doubt in my mind.” 

A slow smile spread across Hermann’s face. “No doubt in mine, either.” 

The two of them just sat there grinning at each other for a moment. 

“You know I’m totally going to design our Jaeger someday and show you it. I might even email it to you in the middle of the night. Like tonight. Who knows?” 

“I look forward to seeing it and providing my input,” Hermann said. He reached out again for Newton’s arm. “Karloff.” 

“I kind of love Karloff,” Newton admitted. “That’s okay to say, right? Because it’s dead and all and I totally appropriate hate it for all that it killed and all even though we’ve apparently decided it wasn’t its fault at all because a bunch of fascists made it do it?” 

“Is that what we decided?” Hermann asked faintly. 

Newton shrugged. “Well that’s certainly how I remember it.” 

“Why do you like Karloff?” Hermann asked. “Myself, I appreciated how easily it fell. The attack on Vancouver was the least destructive of any of the attacks before or since as the precursors hadn’t known to expect the Jaegers.” 

Newton looked curiously at him. “What’s a precursor?” 

Well fuck. 

“Well I had to call the alien creatures I theorized are controlling the kaiju, since they do not seem intelligent in and of themselves and they do seem remarkably on-point and adaptive, something,” Hermann said reasonably. 

Newton wrinkled his nose adorably. “Yes but precursors? A thing that comes before another? Wouldn’t the kaiju be the precursors in this case since they came before the species you want to call precursors?” 

“Well the kaiju already have a name,” Hermann said. “For all I don’t understand the logic of naming them after a genre of Japanese films just because they reminded people of Godzilla. And I don’t know, maybe them sending the kaiju here and taking an interest in us is the precursor to our deaths.” 

Newton stroke a heroic pose which, since he was sitting down, didn’t quite have the effect he was going for. It made Hermann laugh, however, which he seemed pleased at. 

“Not on my watch!” 

“Not on mine either,” Hermann agreed. “But what was it you liked about Karloff?” 

“Well Boris Karloff was the shit, obviously,” Newton said. 

Hermann nodded. “Obviously.” Everyone knew his place in the annals early Hollywood horror. 

“And people said it looked like him for some reason which is really stupid,” Newton continued. “He totally looked like Groot, though, and what can I say? I love that little guy.” 

“You are such a…I don’t even know,” Hermann said. 

Newton laughed. “I get that a lot. Let me know when you think of it.” 

“Oh, trust me, I’ve never been one to mince words,” Hermann replied. He looked at Newton who obligingly held out his arm and Hermann traced the next one. “Reckoner.” 

Reckoner had always been the one that Hermann felt the most comfortable with. Perhaps he knew more about Otachi’s unholy spawn but Reckoner was the creature he walked past and could see for miles and that became the twisted temple of those horrible kaiju cultists. He could never feel comfortable with the monster he had drifted with and who had led him to nightmares and Newton to ruination. But Reckoner…he knew better, really, but it had just become a part of the scenery after a while. 

“That one was down in Hong Kong. It ruined the Earth where it fell, like something out of a mythology,” Newton said thoughtfully. “It didn’t even do that much damage, as far as these things went. Maybe that’s why the cultists claimed that one was their own.” 

“If there was any way the cultists could have taken the rest they would have,” Hermann said dryly. 

“Yeah. I really don’t get those people, you know? Like, maybe I could see looking at all this and deciding our downfall is unavoidable. Like, fuck that shit and fight and scream until all the breath and blood leaves your body but I can almost get it. It’s kind of a lot, you know, and nothing we were ever prepared for. Those are just quitters and people I don’t need to waste my time on. But they don’t want it, you know?” 

“I do,” Hermann said, nodding. “And I find I’m quite the same way. Some days I can’t even hide the contempt I feel for the people just waiting for the end but the sad truth is that there is nothing most of the world can do about this. Only those who work with the PPDC are even in a position to try.” 

Newton nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! Like, I don’t expect everyone to actually be changing things and so I guess maybe it doesn’t really matter what they believe and if they can’t do anything about it then maybe believing is harder – not that it’s a cakewalk for us – but like…it’s the ones that welcome it that really piss me off. Like how fucking dare you. You want the world to end? You want all the people who have only ever done their best and tried to be good and, fuck, man all the children to just be killed like that? The ones who weren’t even born when this started? Like you can’t deal with reality so you’re going to go worship the monsters that want to destroy you? You want to usher in the end of days? It’s not all romantic and biblical, you know. It’s everything – everything ¬– all gone and honestly I don’t think you could even imagine it.” 

Hermann shuddered. “Perhaps not but I think I come closer than most.” 

“I kind of want to fight them. Like all of them. Just challenge them to a duel and start punching until they stop being stupid,” Newton said. 

Hermann smiled. “Okay, Hamilton. I don’t think you can punch the stupid out of people, Newton. In fact, depending on the head damage you might make it worse.” 

Newton shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’d have fun trying. God, I hate them. And God do I hate it when people think I’m one of them.” 

“You’re not. You never could be. I know that,” Hermann said immediately. Even when his mind was half a dimension away, Newton had never really wanted anyone to get hurt. He just literally wasn’t capable of focusing on that part of the plan. The precursors had had to shut off vital parts of his brain to get him as far as they had and even they couldn’t bring him all the way. 

Newton smiled tiredly at him. “Thanks. I know that, I do, but it’s nice not to be the only one saying that for once.” 

“Well I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it,” Hermann promised. 

Newton looked skeptical. “You don’t know how often I’ll need to hear it.” 

“Newton, you’re nothing like that and anyone who thinks you are is a fool.” 

Newton smiled again and held out his arm. 

Hermann traced the next kaiju. “Onibaba.” 

That was the one who had killed Mako’s parents. He couldn’t possibly say that to Newton but that was what he remembered it for. 

“Onibaba,” Newton repeated. “That one attacked Tokyo. It was the most like any of the actual kaiju films in that way. I couldn’t stop thinking about that when it happened but I made the mistake of saying that out loud to someone and they damn near decked me.” 

“That makes sense,” Hermann said. He saw the look Newton was giving him and quickly added, “Not the nearly punching you bit, though, really, people do get very sensitive about these attacks and don’t want any nuance with their anger and horror. But I meant your reaction. You grew up watching them and this whole thing has reminded enough people of those movies to name the species and now they’re attacking Tokyo. One of them starts taking out US landmarks and I expect I will feel similarly. But wisely choose not to share that with people who are not you because I know better.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Newton grumbled. “But seriously, that would be so out of Hollywood monster movies. You know, in a lot of ways the Onibaba attack was fascinating.” 

“Was that another thing you told this man that led to you nearly getting punched?” Hermann inquired. 

Newton let out a startled laugh. “Oh, God, no. I know well enough that people often mistake the word ‘fascinating’ for a positive thing. And, well, I do like being fascinated but I just meant it was interesting. Which…can also sound positive. But Onibaba didn’t act like the others did.” 

“No, it didn’t,” Hermann agreed. He knew exactly how many hours Newton had spent puzzling over this. 

“It was like…it was one of the first signs that the kaiju are connected or can learn,” Newton explained. “This one killed millions of people, yes. But it didn’t really engage with any of our weapons or fighters. It attacked helpless civilians and yet the second anything with any hope of standing up against it showed up it went all defensive. Even the attacks it fired back seemed mostly designed to defend itself.” 

“You know,” Hermann said. “That sounds an awful lot like support for my theory.” 

“It just might be,” Newton said. “In fact, it almost doesn’t make sense otherwise. The very anatomy of the kaiju seemed designed to be defensive, far more than the first ones. And it’s behavior and strategy of non-engagement seemed a clear response to the ease with which the Jaegers took down the previous few kaiju. But that just implies some sort of organization, right? The kaiju never made it back to explain or whatever that we had a new weapon and weren’t just taking them down with the same efficiency – or lack thereof – that we had previously been using. And it’s too soon to say if Onibaba was sent specifically because it did have more defensive capabilities or if it were designed that way afterwards. But somehow there must be some sort of organization, some sort of way to share information or it simply doesn’t make sense. They can’t adapt to us if they don’t know what’s going on.” 

Newton seemed to be waiting for some sort of reaction. 

What was he supposed to say? 

“That makes perfect sense to me, Newton.” 

Newton’s grin was equal parts smug and relieved. “It does, doesn’t it? I just wish anyone else would give it the time of day. Everyone just wants to think of the kaiju as dumb animals but the organization implied here…well no one seems to be able to think too hard about it without vowing vengeance again so maybe that’s understandable but it’s not very helpful.” 

“You’ll make them see. You won’t give them a choice.” 

“Oh, that I most certainly won’t,” Newton agreed. 

Hermann reached for his arm again. “Itak.” He thought for a moment and traced the next one. “Ragnarok.” 

Newton laughed. “Do you ever feel like the kaiju just really have it out for Tokyo? Like, maybe they didn’t get the cultural context with those movies at first but now they just…really really want to take it down.” 

“I wouldn’t put anything past them,” Hermann said honestly. “There must be some sort of reason for it. They didn’t go back to Vancouver after their failure there yet three emerged fairly quickly in succession to attack the same city.” 

“Four weeks later. It can take decades to finish cleaning up and rebuilding a place after a natural disaster if the government just doesn’t care,” Newton said. “Tokyo hadn’t even begun to recover yet when Itak appeared. I, uh, liked the bioluminescent glow. It looked really cool.” 

Hermann rolled his eyes. “You’re allowed to think the kaiju look cool, you know. I can’t agree because coolness has never been a factor I’ve really considered but I know you’re interested in that and I’m not going to judge you for that.” 

In the past Hermann absolutely would have judged him for that – absolutely had – but he had been through too much to really care that Newton couldn’t turn off his fanboy urges completely. Besides, it served him well keeping him fighting the good fight when all hope was lost. 

“Sorry, I know,” Newton said sheepishly. “It’s just that it bothers literally everyone else.” 

“And yet you still keep saying it,” Hermann noted. 

“Well, the way I see it that’s really more of a them problem, you know?” 

Hermann snorted. “Itak was the first one to do any real damage to a Jaeger. With Onibaba the issue was that Sevier blacked out and Pentecost had to pilot it on his own. Itak handily took on two Jaegers even if Coyote Tango had been damaged before.” 

“Yeah, that fight was something else,” Newton agreed. “I remember watching it on television and I really thought Tacit Ronin was done for – the pilots were both literally unconscious – but then they brought back Coyote Tango and it wasn’t a match for Itak but it held its own long enough for Tacit Ronin to take it out and if it hadn’t…well they’d have gotten something else eventually but I don’t even want to think about what the death toll would have been. Might have brought back those nuclear missiles. And at any rate we didn’t need the Jaegers failing so soon, you know? Might give those morons who still want to blow them up some ideas.” 

“Politicians should never have ideas,” Hermann said. 

Newton laughed. “My man. Then if Itak was only four weeks after Onibaba, Ragnarok was two weeks later. At some point the people of Tokyo would have to take a long, hard look at their lives and decide if this was really the hill they wanted to die on.” 

“The kaiju leave after that,” Hermann pointed out. 

“Yeah but still. It really proves that it’s not a lightning never strikes twice situation,” Newton said. “Ragnarok. Like super mythological. Victory Alpha got its ass handed to it and Tacit Ronin had to limp back in to save the day again. At least Kagiso and Itu survived. The Jessups really had no business going back into that fight so soon.” 

“They knew that,” Hermann said. “The Jaeger was still too damaged. The PONS system was fried. But what else could they do? It would be weeks before Coyote Tango was ready again and then we run into the same problem as if Itak hadn’t been stopped and who knows if another kaiju wouldn’t have come through just because we hadn’t stopped the first one?” 

Newton leaned back in his chair. “Heroes. I hate goddamn heroes.”

Hermann cocked his head curiously. “What do you mean?” 

“Not Kaori and Duc themselves. I never met them but I’m sure they were great. And they personally killed two kaiju and knew they weren’t just risking their lives but killing themselves by going back out there. But I’m not the kind of person who would fall on their own sword like that and I have a hard time dealing with the people who are. Like…it’s fucked up, maybe, but what do you do with people like that? People who will not just risk it all but outright give it all for someone else? I don’t know, it just makes me mad.” 

“It shouldn’t have to be this way. They shouldn’t have to do this,” Hermann said, nodding. “But Newton, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You end up between a rock and a hard place and you’d be the one I’d find on the floor seizing.” 

Newton shook his head firmly. “No. Not me. I refuse.” 

“And I hope that you’re never in that position, too, but I know I’m right.” 

“Know what you like but I won’t,” Newton said stubbornly. 

He would. Time and time again, he always would. 

Hermann reached over one last time. “Yamarashi.” 

“I’ve, uh, actually got a bit of a soft spot for that one, you know?” Newton said, looking conspiratorially around. “I know, I know, that one just happened and the wounds are the freshest. But it is the biggest category three we’ve ever seen and it got beheaded by a crane and it attacked in Los Angeles and I just…it was hardcore, dude. It really was.” 

“The Beckets took that one out,” Hermann said. “They are brave men.” 

“Heroes,” Newton said pointedly. 

Hermann bowed his head. “In times such as these, who are we not to be?” 

“Oh, don’t go getting all self-sacrificial on me, Hermann! I will bite you,” Newton threatened. 

That startled a laugh out of Hermann. “What?” 

“I know what I said.” 

Hermann just smiled and shook his head. 

They sat there in silence for a moment before Newton snapped his fingers. “Oh, right, I meant to ask you this earlier but I got distracted!” 

Hermann didn’t get it at first but then his eyes widened. Surely Newton wasn’t going to…yes, he had last time but that had been after their incredibly awkward start and…he never did understand why Newton thought this was the proper way to…pretty much anything. 

“If you were a monster from classic cinema, who would you be?” Newton asked excitedly. 

If memory served, originally Hermann had accused Newton of being some kind of pervert. Well, not at this question perhaps but Newton had wanted to know which monster Hermann would date. Why would he want to date a monster? Why would anyone? Why had Newton taken the time to sit down and rank the monsters in terms of first datability and then fuckability? Why had he made Hermann sit through his explanation for the lists? 

“It’s a little late in the encounter to be busting out the odd icebreakers,” Hermann said instead. 

“Yeah but I told you I forgot about it and I really want your answer!” 

“I can promise you that it won’t be anywhere near as well thought out as I’m sure your answer would be,” Hermann replied. 

“Hermann,” Newton said, an edge of a whine in his voice. 

“I suppose I’d be Dracula,” Hermann replied. “A bit of a disaster, I know, but I think I physically resemble a vampire more than some of the other creatures and I could see myself, in another life, living in a castle and not talking to people and reading books and conducting experiments in peace.” 

“I don’t think those last two were really Dracula’s thing, Herms.” 

“Well if you’re expecting an exact match-up you’re never going to get anywhere,” Hermann said. “He was also rather too heterosexual for me.” 

“They all are at first glance,” Newton said sympathetically. “Me, I’m Frankenstein.” 

“Newton, what part of ‘monster’ in your question led to you thinking going with a human doctor was an acceptable answer?” 

Newton grinned delightedly. “Oh, I am so glad you didn’t think I was talking about the creature! And, well, see I knew I had to be a mad scientist, right? That’s just who I am. And the other obvious answer is Dr. Jekyll but like the fuck am I going to be stupid enough to try something like that on myself. I intend to survive my movie.” 

“You know in the book-”

“That’s why Frankenstein is a monster. You can’t do something objectively cool as create life, not even just bring someone back from the dead but create his own life and wow way to run before you can crawl there buddy, and then abandon it because you think it’s ugly and somehow didn’t notice before it came to life. Like, fuck, man, you create life. Who cares what it looks like? So I’d be a much better dad than Frankenstein so I’d survive this, too. And so would my bratty little brother and my governess or whatever and my husband.” 

“It was a wife,” Hermann pointed out. 

Newton shrugged. “Yeah, well, I want a husband. It’s 2017, Hermann. Get with the picture.” 

Hermann merely rolled his eyes. 

“Speaking of it being 2017…Which monster would you want to date?” 

“Dr. Frankenstein,” Hermann said with no hesitation. 

“Really?” Newton asked, blinking in surprise. “Why? He’s kind of a dick, Herms, and-Oh.” His eyes widened. “Oh. I see. That’s…okay.” 

Hermann smiled at him. “And you?” 

“Gotta go with Dracula. You know? A classic.” 

“I think I do.” 

Newton ducked his head. “I, uh, so how would you describe your backstory if you got turned into a vampire and now it’s 500 years in the future?”

“Like my actual life or how would I tell people 500 years in the future about what happened?” 

“Surprise me.” 

“I would insist I was at the crucifixion,” Hermann said. “I would insist I was at all the great gothic events. I would namedrop everyone and refuse to talk about it. And I would act as though they were all children no matter how old they were. Just be incredibly pretentious about it. By the time I’m that age, I think I would deserve it.” 

Newton laughed. “Oh my God, you would be the literal worst. Well I’d insist that I slept through everything and never paid attention in class so I actually know less about the past than they did. That or say that actually I’m the same age as them and got turned into a vampire like a week ago so there’s no cool stories just yet.” 

“So if we were to turn into vampires we would just be utter trolls?” Hermann asked. 

“Honestly, I think it does kind of sound like us,” Newton said. He bit his lip. “Hey, uh, do you want to get out of here?” 

“Get out of here?” Hermann repeated. He knew exactly what Newton meant and by God did he want to. “Like part ways and go back to wherever we are staying?” 

“No, you dingbat,” Newton said, rolling his eyes fondly. “I’m thinking that I want to get out of here. Part one of our date went just…like…really really really well and I’m excited to see where part two leads us.” 

“Well it would be the only way to get to a part two,” Hermann said reasonably. “And if our date is going to have multiple parts then it really only makes sense for us to get out of here and give it time to start. Otherwise this date may last for days.” 

“I am absolutely okay with that,” Newton said. “But, well, trying not to be too much here.” 

“I told you,” Hermann said, “it’s impossible. You can’t be.” 

“You say that now and I’m definitely reminding you of that the first time you snap and try to smother me in my sleep,” Newton said. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Newton.” Hermann waited a beat. “If I were to find you so frustrating I would try to kill you it would be in the moment. And probably poison-related.”

“Dude, where would you even get poison in the moment?” 

“Bold of you to assume that I’m not always carrying poison.”

Newton gave a mock-shudder. “Okay, note to self, do not accept mysterious food or beverages from Hermann when I’ve pissed him off badly enough.” 

“I probably wouldn’t actually kill you,” Hermann said. 

“I’d hope so but you can do a whole awful lot that’s not lethal or even permanent. I’m watching you,” Newton said, sticking his second and third fingers out and pointing first to his own eyes then to Hermann. 

“So where would you suggest we go for part two of our date?” Hermann asked. “It’s a little early for dinner but let me tell you I have a great spot in mind for part three.” 

Newton beamed. “Are we already assuming part two will be a smashing success?” 

“Well I don’t see why not. Part one certainly was. And you even asked me what monster I’d want to date.” 

“I almost asked you what monster you would want to fuck but, like, I do have some sense of propriety, dude,” Newton said. “And you managed to turn that shit all romantic anyway.” 

“I’m not often called a romantic,” Hermann mused. 

“Well I don’t know that most people would call you answering that question by saying which monster I had said I would be a minute before romantic or not but they’d be missing out. It’s like a fun, quirky thing.” 

“These are more things I am not usually called,” Hermann said. 

Newton blinked in confusion. “Who do you even talk to that doesn’t get this about you?” 

“Everyone. Everyone in my life.” 

“You should surround yourself with some people who are better judges of character. Like me!” Newton said helpfully. 

“I certainly intend to try,” Hermann said. “Not that I think there are many people out there like you.” 

“So I’ve noticed,” Newton said. “But you like that. Right?” 

“My poor heart couldn’t handle more than one of you,” Hermann replied. “Or not any one of you. But having one of you here with me right now? And hopefully with me in the future, geographically or otherwise? Yes, I do think that will do nicely.” 

“That is such a long-winded way of saying you like me, dude,” Newton said, grinning. 

“Well I had rather assumed a man with that many doctorates could figure it out,” Hermann said. 

Newton laughed. “Hermann, if you think that’s too many degrees you should see how many masters I have. I’m kind of collecting them, you know? If we live through this I’m going to go back and finish getting a masters in everything MIT has to offer. They didn’t believe I was serious about that at first but they know better now. Oh, they know better.” 

“Well I definitely believe you about this,” Hermann said. “I think you get a perverse pleasure in scaring people with your titles you won’t use.” 

“Oh, I most definitely do. And adding an M.S. or a PhD after my name in a field does tend to win me some points,” Newton said. “At this point properly signing my emails takes forever. I always forget something.” 

“So where do you suggest we go for part two?” Hermann asked. 

“Well there was a cool museum just a few blocks over,” Newton offered. “I made a mental note to check it out later but museums seem like your kind of thing, too, and why not just hit it together?” 

“Museum dates,” Hermann said thoughtfully. “That does actually sound like something I’d enjoy. And yet…” 

“Wow are we nerds or what?” Newton asked rhetorically, laughing. “I know, right? I love it.” 

Newton stood up and held out his hand. 

Hermann took it without having to think about it. 

They left the coffee shop together, fingers entwined, Newton chattering excitedly about all the exhibits he wanted to see in the museum. 

Things weren’t perfect. Far from it. 

The precursors were still out there sending their kaiju through the breach to slowly chip away at them. They had lost some good people and would lose some more before this was over. 

They had years of stressful, impossible work in front of them and Hermann had to figure out the best and least suspicious way to put his future knowledge to use. 

Newton absolutely could not be allowed to go anywhere near a kaiju brain. 

It was such a miracle they had won the first time. It had been such a delicate balance. Even now, even with Hermann just as competent and moreso than before and with several new advantages, there was no promise they could pull it off again. Maybe they would but people he loved who had made it through before would die this time. 

But he wasn’t really thinking about any of that as they walked towards the museum. 

He was thinking about the Newton he had left behind and the Newton he had found here and how it was perfect and how it was a disaster and how it was perfect because it was a disaster. 

He was thinking about how nothing would keep him away from Newton for the next three years let alone ten years further down the line. About all the memories and fights and flirtations they could share where there was only stony silence then bitter words before. 

About how, if he had it his way, he soon wouldn’t know what the future held but that was fine as long as he never let go of the hand in his.


End file.
